


Spit and Asphalt

by missbeizy



Category: Glee
Genre: Blow Jobs, Car Sex, Desperation, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-08
Updated: 2013-06-08
Packaged: 2017-12-14 08:35:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/834856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missbeizy/pseuds/missbeizy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blaine gives Kurt roadhead.  That’s it, that’s the fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spit and Asphalt

"Don't make me wait," Blaine breathes against his cheek, hand working furiously over the bulge at the front of his pants. "Please."

"God--just--let me pull over, let me--"

"I'll be so fast, you won't have to." He spits the words like a filthy prayer, then shimmies under Kurt's elbow and begins biting at Kurt's fly softly, carefully, picking the buttons open with his teeth.

"Oh my god," Kurt breathes, fingers tensing, knuckles going white around the steering wheel. They're on an unknown, random back road, so he isn't sure why he's so nervous (the GPS had accidentally been switched to no toll roads; he has a lingering suspicious that Blaine may be responsible), but there are still cars every now and then and he's still doing sixty and--

And Blaine's mouth is eager and hot, working his pants open, finding the hole at the front of his underwear and fishing inside.

It's overwhelming. It's hot. The air conditioning in the rental car is sub-par at best and Kurt is so warm even though he's only wearing light pants, a short-sleeved shirt, and a thin lacy vest.

Blaine nuzzles and licks at him through his high-thread cotton underwear like a puppy who's gotten at the end of a spurting, cold hose on a hot day.

He puts a trembling hand down on Blaine's head. If he can just control the motion a little maybe it'll stop feeling like so much.

He's getting hard, but maybe not as quickly as Blaine would like. He's beginning to think that maybe Blaine has a thing for taking him out of his pants when he's still soft, because Blaine lingers, licking and kissing him when he's still pliable and floppy.

He'd love to be one of those guys who walks around impressive and long even soft, but he knows the few inches that he sports on a normal basis is nothing to look at. Sure, he's a grower, but--

Blaine's sweet pink mouth pursed around him, pulling on him, getting him wet, drawing him out. 

Now is not the time to be obsessing over his dick size, he thinks in a daze, heat snapping along his spine, sweat prickling down his hairline as Blaine's head begins to bob, as he begins to fill Blaine's mouth with a much more satisfying swell.

"Yeah," Blaine whimpers around his flesh. "Yeah, just like that."

He tries desperately to keep his eyes on the road and the speed of the car stable. 

When he first nudges the roof of Blaine's mouth, it starts to feel immediate and his focus on the road wavers; he forces it back, the hand he has on the wheel closed in a death grip. He could reach down quickly and flip the turn signal, ease the car onto the side of the road, put it in park and dig both hands into Blaine's hair and make him go faster, speed up this slow, deep sucking to something a little rougher, the way he likes it.

Or he could just keep driving and let Blaine taste every inch of him as he gets hard. Blaine loves starting slow, easing his tongue down every smooth dip, feeling the bulge of veins as they come to stand out against the otherwise smooth surface of Kurt's shaft. He's deliberate and hungry and sometimes Kurt just wants to greedily fuck up into his throat and come before he has a chance to explore the way he really wants to.

Kurt shakes in the driver's seat, now hard and full in Blaine's mouth.

Blaine's hand comes up to steady him at the base and he finally gives a quick, hard bob, working Kurt from tip to root.

"Blaine."

God, his mouth. His perfect mouth, swollen up and pink and so sweet.

Blaine's fist closes around him, tugs him to the beat of the song playing on the radio. The wet smack as he pulls off the head is obscene, echoing off the roof of the car and reverberating through the cabin.

"Missed you, missed this, you taste so good," he moans, lashing the head with his tongue, working the little slit open and licking inside.

Kurt jerks and the car swerves. "Don't tease. Not now. Come on, come on--"

Blaine grins, closing his lips in a suckle just under the head. "You can handle the steering wheel. I have complete faith in you." He continues from there, working the purse of his mouth all the way down the underside of the shaft to Kurt's swollen balls. He drags his tongue over them--what he can get at, anyway--in broad, wet strokes, making Kurt inhale sharply.

He wants to be back between those lips now.

He gently wraps his fingers through the loose hair at the nape of Blaine's neck and tugs. "You said you'd be fast."

Blaine licks a stripe up the side and then circles the wet, spongy tip. "I did, didn't I?" He sucks the head into his mouth. "You're just so hot; can't help it."

"Help it or I'm going to just pull this car over and take what I need, sweetheart," Kurt drawls, low and rough.

They've done this before. Kurt knows exactly where Blaine's limits are and what he likes to hear when they're like this. Kurt can feel the shiver of arousal make his muscles go rigid. The thought of Kurt doing that, of throwing up the center console and pushing Blaine down into the passenger seat and feeding Blaine his hard, aching cock--

"God, Kurt," Blaine whines, and finally lowers his mouth back around Kurt.

It's faster, then, and wetter, Blaine's mouth a warm slick channel for Kurt to fuck up into as he tries to stay between the lines on the road. Thankfully they're out on an open stretch now and he can just rely on cruise control to maintain the speed of the car, but he has one nervous foot on the break because who knows when he'll need to--

His thoughts fracture. Blaine's hair is springing loose curls from the combination of heat and cool in the car and he wraps his fingers around them, tugging and pushing Blaine's head down.

"Come on," he breathes. Blaine knows what he likes. "Give me what I want, honey."

"Yeah," Blaine answers, slurping as he bobs up and down. "P-pull. Pull my hair."

Damn.

Kurt's pulse slams at his throat as the tension builds. 

The front of his pants are soaked with spit. Blaine makes breathy, whining noises as he sucks, noises that go silent suddenly as he takes a breath in and sinks down, burying his nose in Kurt's lap and--

"Oh dear god," Kurt gasps. Blaine's throat closes around the head several times. He pulls off again, sucking in a raggedy breath. "Don't stop. God, don't stop." He eases down again, breathing through his nose this time so that he can stay down, jaw and cheek muscle flexing as he edges Kurt's into his throat again and begins to rock, grinding him inside.

Kurt feels the orgasm coil in his balls and he tightens his hand in Blaine's hair. 

Blaine pops off yet again, panting. "Close?"

"Yes," Kurt exhales, thrusting his throbbing, damp, sticky cock up into nothing. "God--"

This has been rather the opposite of fast, but he can't bring himself to care. 

Blaine's upper lip is wet with snot and his eyes welled up with tears from near-gagging; his mouth is puffy from friction, borderline cherry red at the inseam of his wet lips, a vision of wanting sexuality so well-defined that Kurt could weep.

"Come in my mouth?" Blaine asks, completing the angelic picture with a devilish question in the most perfectly flourished way possible.

"Please," Kurt sighs, eyes trembling on the road.

Blaine begins stroking him and sucking at the tip at the same time, and it only takes about a minute or two more; Kurt's thoughts scatter uselessly as he becomes consumed by heat and friction and urgency, his line of vision actually going blurry for a few seconds when the orgasm crests.

He gasps and curses, thrusting deep at the same time as he pushes Blaine's head down, and comes in waves of sweet relief, filling Blaine's mouth pulse after pulse.

His eyes snap open alertly when the moment passes; the car is still moving and straight, so he supposes the danger has finally passed. Sweating and panting, he slumps back into his seat and twitches through Blaine licking him clean.

Looking blissfully satisfied, Blaine tucks him back into his pants and gently dabs the fabric with a wet wipe from the box in the glove compartment. 

Kurt's right thigh aches where Blaine had been holding onto it the whole time.

When it's over and done with, he follows Blaine back to the passenger seat with one hand at the nape of his neck, unwilling to let go entirely and, besides, he's gotten pretty good at one-handed driving this afternoon.

Blaine leans over and kisses the corner of his mouth. "Mad at me?"

"Quietly plotting revenge," he breathes, right eyebrow raised. "Be on your guard."

Blaine grins, biting his lip and looking rather pleased with himself. He even bounces, just once, in his seat, hands fluttering. "Noted, Mr. Hummel."


End file.
